


my blood is red and unafraid of living (beginning to end)

by packrat



Series: ke one parters [5]
Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: 01x08, Episode 8, F/F, Idiots to Idiots, One Shot, Season 1, Villanelle pov, based on liquid Smooth by mitski, inner monologue, the stabbing, there’s blood, there’s drama, there’s two idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:43:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21550969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/packrat/pseuds/packrat
Summary: She never listens to Konstantin. Villanelle enjoys seeing him getting distraught despite knowing that that’s their usual routine. A game to test how much trouble she is in and to see how much control she will be able to get over the conversation. And she thought that maybe she could play that game with Eve as well.Except that Eve seemed to make the rules.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, Villaneve - Relationship
Series: ke one parters [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712638
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	my blood is red and unafraid of living (beginning to end)

**Author's Note:**

> set in 01x08 when Villanelle returns home after getting hit with a log by Konstantin 
> 
> title from Liquid Smooth by Mitski (the whole thing is based on that song)

_I'm beautiful, I know 'cause it's the season  
But what am I to do with all this beauty?_

Villanelle has always known that her beauty is her strongest skill. Sure, she is charming and enamouring, outright enchanting if she wants to be. And sure, she can speak many languages and can mirror any accent in a matter of seconds but her attractiveness is something she almost always can rely on. 

She finds herself so tremendously good-looking that sometimes, when it’s late at night and her mind is unable to conjure up any more images, she masturbates about herself. 

Villanelle is a gift and every woman that gets to look at her should consider it as such. 

Her reflection holds all her secrets. When she’s standing opposite it in her Paris apartment, basking in her own beauty, running her hands through her own hair and over the skin of her face to inspect it for wrinkles, she knows. It’s not that she’s only realized it now, it’s something she’s always known.

_Biology, I am an organism, I'm chemical  
That's all, that is all_

She knows that she uses her looks to her advantage: to lure men in and kill them and to get into bed with women. 

And most of the time she is painfully aware that her beauty is a currency that, in the eyes of men, is slowly losing its value.

Those men don’t deserve to look at women at all, really, so she stabs one of her victims in the eyes. A hairpiece dipped in poison. It’s been a beautiful day in Tuscany and the blue summer dress she’d worn, stolen from his wife’s wardrobe, still hangs in her closet. 

Used to hang in her closet. Now it found itself a new place on her hardwood floor. 

She left her victim in his bedroom to suffer a slow and painful death. Simultaneously a reminder, a warning for the boy she locked away, to treat the women in his life with respect.

_I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too_  
_And feel my skin is plump and full of life_  
_I'm in my prime_

For Villanelle each job is a hunt. She the hunter and her assignment the prey. The kick of adrenaline when the postcards are handed over to her is something almost incomparable. She loves the rush of excitement, the careful crafting of her kills. The scheming. The arrangement and installation of it all like it’s a secret exhibition only certain people will get to see. It makes her pulse quicken. She loves being in charge and orchestrating every detail.

_I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too_  
_I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe_  
_About to fall, capture me_

Unsurprisingly, she loves getting noticed and followed by the agent with the amazing hair. There, in the shitty lit hospital bathroom all she finds herself wanting to do is touch the older woman’s face, run her fingers over cheekbones. 

Kiss her. 

She masturbates about the woman that night. 

And every night to follow. 

_Or at least take my picture  
Kuzurete yuku maeni_ (Before I fall apart)

She wants Eve Polastri to follow her. Wants to tell stories with her murders that only Eve will be able to understand. Sometimes she masturbates about the fact that there are pictures of her crime scenes and Eve is the one inspecting them. 

Villanelle wants this.

Forever.

She wants Eve.

_I'm pulsing, my blood is red and unafraid of living_

She never listens to Konstantin. Villanelle enjoys seeing him getting distraught despite knowing that that it is their usual routine. A game to test how much trouble she is in, how angry he is and to see how much control she will be able to get over the conversation. 

And she thought that maybe she could play that game with Eve as well.

Except that Eve seemed to make the rules.

When Villanelle returned home, her head hurting like she has just been hit over it with a log (which, mind you, she has been) and after everything that went down with Konstantin, she found her apartment absolutely trashed. 

“Sit down”, she had said and without thinking Villanelle had complied. Had sat down after assessing the damage Eve had done to her apartment: her bottles of champagne burst on her hardwood floor, her clothes ripped out of her closet and haphazardly thrown everywhere, nothing like she expected it to be. 

And she had listened intently when Eve had told her that all she has been doing was thinking about Villanelle. That she lost her job (twice) and that she lost her husband and her best friend. All because of her. 

_Beginning to end_

“I think about you all the time. I think about what you're wearing, and what you're doing, and who you're doing it with. I think about the friends you have, I think about what you eat before you go to work, and what shampoo you have, and what happened in your family. I think about your eyes and your mouth, and what you feel when you kill someone, I think about what you have for breakfast. I just want to know everything.”

Villanelle had stared at Eve while she confessed and when she finished she gasped. Involuntarily so. Because in her eyes, Eve seemed to understand.

_I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too_  
_And feel my skin is plump and full of life_  
_I'm in my prime_  
_I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too_  
_I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe_  
_About to fall_

She is not quite sure how they ended up on her bed. On top of expensive designer silk sheets. Her gun just out of reach because she promised she wouldn’t hurt Eve. Staring into each other’s eyes and how and when her hand had reached out to rest on Eve’s cheek. Eve’s skin warm and a soft pulsing indicating that she is alive. Eve’s chest rising and sinking slowly, calmly so. 

Villanelle is certain that Eve will want to kiss her now. She is irresistible. So she leans in. 

Until she feels the tip of the knife in Eve’s hand tease through her sweater, edging dangerously close to her skin.

_How I feel this river rushing through my veins  
With nowhere else to go, it circles 'round_

For some reason she wants Eve to do it. There are goosebumps rising on her skin and she is choking on air.

What is this woman doing to her?

She cannot remember feeling this excited apart from when she sees the life of her victims leave their eyes. She wants to keep playing this game and see how far Eve would go. Wants Eve to understand that they are the same. Needs her to understand that they’re the same side of the same coin. 

She’s known it from the moment they met in the hospital bathroom and she had told the woman to wear her hair down. 

Villanelle feels the sharp edge of the blade grazing her skin, searches for something in Eve’s eyes and adrenaline flushes her system. And it’s one of those moments when you just know. And Villanelle knows that Eve will do the opposite of what Villanelle tells her to do. 

“You won’t do it”, she states. 

Except Eve does.

Villanelle feels her body getting hot in a mere second and the searing pain of the blade plunging into her body makes her vision go black for a moment before it turns hot and white and then she makes eye contact with the ex-agent again. 

And then Villanelle starts to panic because she sees the panic in Eve’s eyes rising. 

And what is Villanelle if not a mirror to people’s emotions.

She knows what Eve is planning to do before she does. Pleading to not take it out, knowing that as long as the knife is stuck, the circulation will somehow be held upright long enough for her to find a solution. Maybe call Konstantin because he always knows.

_I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too_  
_And feel my skin is plump and full of life_  
_I'm in my prime_

Nevertheless, Eve retracts the knife and along with the blood the panic spills out of Villanelle without warning and without any kind of inhibition.

She screams. The pain is hot and white and she almost chokes on air for another moment, gasping for oxygen. The panic subsides fast and now she’s angry, too. That is her favorite sweater and now, now it’s ruined.

_I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too_  
_I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe_  
_About to fall_

She feels a weight on her body and palms pressing down into the wound, making her scream again. And then the weight lifts again and Villanelle finds herself pressing the palms of her own hands into the stab wound while she observes Eve pacing and desperately coming up with senseless plans aloud. 

Villanelle knows what she has to do. She waits for Eve to turn around and leave the room into the kitchen.

And then she’s going.

She’s grabbing the gun. 

She’s going.

Wondering what a kiss between them would have changed. Wondering why she didn’t check for a weapon. Wondering. Wondering. Wondering. 

The door silently falls into its lock.

She’s gone.


End file.
